firecracker
by qfabray
Summary: because santana hadn't always been beautiful, but he'd always thought she was. major puck/santana/finn triangle.
1. Brick By Boring Brick

She was in seventh grade the first time someone called her fat. To her face, at least. She'd always heard them say it behind her back, their quiet and cruel whispers resounding in her ears. Santana wasn't fragile. She never had been. It just wasn't in her blood. But this was different, because it was coming from _him._

Noah Puckerman.

Even at twelve, he was beautiful. Not to mention popular, and a total bad ass. All of the things she knew she needed. Her breath caught in her throat whenever he walked by, and she could barely keep her cool when he was in the same room as her. And deep down, she thinks she may have loved him back then. But he'd never notice her. Or so she thought.

"You're in my math class, right?" Santana froze on the spot. She knew that voice like she knew the back of her very own hand. Her mouth instantly became dry, so she merely nodded a 'yes' in his direction. She crossed her arms over her chest as she spoke, feeling more self concious than ever. With her food spread out on the table in plain view, she mentally slapped herself for packing that extra brownie. What if he saw?

"Do you think you could help me?" He was smiling down at her, and she couldn't help but return the grin as he sat down next to her.

She moved her food over to the side as he spread out his binder.

"What's the problem?" Santana asked, trying her best to remain calm and keep her voice at a reasonable octave. She looked at his paper, but he moved it away.

"Well.. here's the thing." He started, a smug smile on his face. She listened intently, dying to take in every word so that she could help him in any way at all. "I don't really understand it. I think I need to pay attention more."

Puck laughed, making her do the same. She couldn't believe her luck. She was having an actual conversation with him. They were laughing at the same thing. She noticed his elbow brush his pencil off the table, but she didn't think anything of it.

"Could you get that?" He asked, and of course she did. Leaning over, her stomach lurched. He gave her butterflies, and she was more than excited that this could be the start of a friendship. Maybe even a **relationship.**

And then she felt something else. But it wasn't on the inside. Her hair was wet. She could tell. Still looking at the ground, she noticed the chocolately liquid dripping from her head down onto the floor. She felt sick again, but this time in a bad way.

Santana was afraid to look up.

When she finally did, the tears were already in her eyes. He was still sitting there, with that same damn smile on his face. But this time, he had a carton of milk in his hand.

"Got milk?" He asked, standing up. And it wasn't even _funny_ or clever but of course everyone laughed, because they were in middle school.

She closed her eyes, wishing that she could be anywhere but that cafeteria, sitting alone. She wished that Brit hadn't been out sick that day so at least she'd have _someone_ to make it better. But most of all, she wished she didn't exist. That she wasn't born. And no one should **ever** think that about themselves.

Santana watched as Puck made his way back to his friends, earning high-fives and hoots of approval. She even saw one of them hand him a ten-dollar bill.

And then she saw Finn. Puck's best friend. He wasn't laughing. Not even smiling. He looked sad, like someone just ran over his dog or took away his spot on the basketball team. He was staring right at her.

She was shaken out of her thoughts when the lunch bell rang, and one by one people began to file out into the hallway.

She couldn't move. She could taste the milk mixing with her tears and she felt like she was going to puke.

When she looked up again, Finn was by her side. He didn't say anything, just hovered over her for a moment.

"Don't talk to her, dude." There was that voice again. That _perfect _voice. "She's just some stupid fat chick." And he walked away.

But Finn didn't leave. Not right away. He placed a few napkins on the table in front of her, and she could've sworn she heard him mumble "I'm sorry."

Santana thought that just maybe, the sound of her heart breaking was louder than the laughter around her.

And that was the day that she vowed to break Noah Puckerman's heart the way he'd broken hers.

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**I know this is really short. But I promise the chapters will get longer as we go along. I know Santana's out of character, but she'll get back into it, don't worry. Review! Tell me what you think. Make predictions.**


	2. Don't Stop Believing

Santana still felt sick when she got home that afternoon. She rushed upstairs and into the shower as quickly as she could, throwing her messy clothes into the back of her closet so her grandmother wouldn't ask her any questions. Her mother died before she gave Santana anything to remember her by, and her father was always working at the hospital. She wrapped a towel around her body as she turned the hot water off, instantly noticing the way it didn't fit as easily as it did around her best friend's small frame. Looking in the mirror, she felt another wave of nausea come over her. She never thought she was **that** big. Sure, her clothes were a little snug sometimes, but that was only because they shrunk in the wash. And maybe she did eat more than her friends, but she was a growing girl. It'd always made sense.

And then it didn't anymore. Santana was disgusted with herself. Appalled that she'd let it get this far. She'd always known that she was bigger than the other girls at her school, but her dad always told her she was just big boned. And she believed all of it.

Unable to look at herself any longer, she went into her room to change into pajamas. Her grandmother interrupted her on the way, asking her how her day at school was.

"Fine," She replied quickly. But she was Santana's _abuela_, which meant that she could _always_ tell when she was being lied to.

"Don't lie to me, nieta." She said, concern written all over her wrinkly face as she led the young girl onto her bed. "Tell me what happened. _Rapido_."

And Santana knew she meant business because normally, she'd at least try to speak fully in English. So she sat down on her bed, hugged her pillow tightly to her chest, and told her grandmother everything that happened. She tried her hardest not to cry, but looking into those big brown eyes, she couldn't help it. The fact that she was being comforted only made her cry more, which she _hated. _

"You're beautiful, Ana." Her grandmother rocked her as she cried, the way she used to when she was a baby. "_Muy_ bonita. Your prince will come some day. And he will love you more than you ever thought possible."

Santana didn't believe her. Boys didn't like girls who looked the way she did. And they certainly didn't **love** them. But she didn't give up hope.

xxxxxx

It wasn't until dinner time that he decided to stop by her house, just to make sure she was okay. He had to wait until after practice, and had to lie about where he was going to Puck, but he figured it was better than nothing. He kept his hands in his pockets the entire time, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make her cry again. But Finn wasn't the brightest bulb on the tree, and he'd probably end up doing it anyway.

He couldn't get her face off of his mind. No, not like _that. _Or maybe just a **little** bit like that, but he meant the way it looked only hours before. And ever since then, he'd wanted to tell her that he appreciated her, and that not every guy in the world was like Noah Puckerman.

But that's not what he said when he showed up at her door.

"Hey!" He kind of shouted at her when she opened it. She had on sweatpants and a big t-shirt. She looked like she was trying to hide something. She also looked more than a little shocked to see him standing there. Which she was.

"Finn?" Santana felt stupid right after she asked it. _Obviously_ that was Finn. "What are you doing here?"

"I just.." Finn reached up to scratch the back of his neck. "Wanted to check on you. Make sure you were okay."

"Oh." She didn't really know what to say. They hadn't talked much besides in their science class, and even then it was hardly at all. So why was he standing on her front porch? And why did he care if she was alright?

"Are you?" He asked, bringing her back to full attention.

"Am I what?" She raised an eyebrow, and he thought it was _really_ cute. But he didn't say that, either.

"Okay.."

"Oh!" Finn noticed her posture improve as she leaned against the door frame. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Thank you for checking up on me, though. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. And I uh. I bought you something." Woah, _what? _"I remembered you saying a few weeks ago that you got a new binder. And you especially loved it because it had these flowers on it that reminded you of spring. And well, I kind of noticed today that it got some milk on it. I can't really give you what was inside it, but I figured I could at least replace it for you." He handed her the bag she hadn't even noticed he'd been holding.

"You did that for me?" The way she said it made Finn think that nice things weren't done for her often, and he nodded his head.

"I don't even know what to say." She looked like she might cry again, and that was the last thing he wanted. Before she realized what she was doing and before he could tell her that she didn't need to thank him, Santana placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Finn thought that he quite possibly could've been on fire. At least his cheeks were. She smiled when he turned bright red.

"I should go." He said quickly, not wanting to embarrass himself any further. "I'll see you at school tomorrow?"

"Yeah." She replied, waving him off. "Tomorrow."

Little did Finn know, that was the last time he'd see Santana for a very, very long time.

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**Okay, so this chapter was really boring. Which I hate doing to you guys because I'm literally blown away by the positive things I got on this story. Honestly, you're the best. But in the next chapter, they're back in high school. So that's when it starts to get good, I promise.**

**Thanks so, so much for everything!**


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